“I’m not upset that you lied to me, I’m upset that from now on, I can’t believe you.”
-Friedrich Nietzsche

Last night, while I was tidying up the kitchen after dinner, I heard a soft tapping at the door. A moment later, Witchy stepped in from the porch — minus her usual enthusiastic smile.

“Hi, Witchy, have you had dinner?”

“No, not yet.” Sighing, her shoulders drooped a little more.

“Why don’t you sit down?” I asked, pulling out a chair from the table and gesturing toward it. “I made a huge pot of veggie stew today, would you like some?”

Witchy sat, offering a half-smile as she looked up at me. “No, thank you. Enchantra made something for me but I wasn’t hungry.”

“Yeah, I can see something’s not right. Are you all right? Not feeling well?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t think I’m sick but my stomach feels…I don’t know…weird.”

Once again confused as often happens in these conversations, I was prepared to be patient while I figured out what she meant. “Weird?”

“Yes.”

“Do you mean it hurts?”

“No.”

This was going nowhere fast. “How about if you tell me what’s happening? It’s not like you to skip dinner.”

“Unless I cooked it,” she sighed, looking a little more dejected.

“I’m glad your cauldron doesn’t mind taking care of the meals for you,” I smiled, pulling out another chair and sitting opposite my little blue friend. “Now, back to what’s wrong…how can I help?”

“Well, you know that new friend I made a while ago, Martin?”

“Yes, I remember. You found him camping by the river when you went on a long walk, is that right?”

“Yes, that’s Martin.”

“You seemed quite happy to have met him. Said he was friendly and talkative, and I remember you said you liked his socks.”

“Yes, I did. Well, I do! He has lots of neat socks. I love socks.” With a little lopsided smile, she stared off into space, remembering his “neat socks” and momentarily distracted from her troubles.

“Okay, so what’s up with Martin? I presume something’s happened that’s bothering you?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I’ll be happy to help you figure it out if you’ll tell me what it is.” I didn’t dare mention this being like pulling teeth after the last time I said that…

“Well, I don’t know how to say it. Especially in English. I just feel like…like sometimes he says things and then my stomach feels weird.”

“What kinds of things? Mean things?”

“No, he’s never mean. It’s just — sometimes he says something and I get that weird feeling, like something feels wrong. And then I remember something else he said that doesn’t fit with what he just said.”

“What do you mean, it doesn’t fit?”

“It doesn’t make sense with something he told me another time.”

“You mean, he contradicts himself?”

“Yes, I think that’s the word. And sometimes he says things that just don’t make sense. I mean, they make sense but they don’t sound real. Like, whatever it was couldn’t possibly have happened to him.”

“Well, sometimes things happen that seem unbelievable but they’re true. Is that what you mean?”

“No. I mean, like, he said he won £10,000,000 in a lottery last year. He said he has a big house somewhere and fancy cars. But he’s been staying in a tattered old tent by the river, wearing the same clothes every time I see him…and they’re not getting any cleaner. Neither are his socks. He doesn’t seem to have much food. Why would he live like that if he has all that money and a big house?”

“I don’t know. Some people can be kind of…eccentric. Many people would say that about you. They’ve certainly said it about me, too!” I grinned.

“You mean, he really does have that money?”

“I don’t know, Witchy. I know nothing about him. I’m just trying to understand what’s bothering you. Is it that you think he’s lying?”

“You mean, in his tent by the river? He can’t stand up in it. He has to lie down.”

“No — I mean — is he telling lies? Things that aren’t true?”

“Oh. Those are lies?”

“Yes.”

“Um…I guess so. I don’t know. But if he is, why would that make my stomach feel weird?”

“Because that’s how our bodies respond when something doesn’t add up.”

“Hmm. Things don’t add up a lot when I’m doing math but it never makes my stomach feel weird.”

“No — I mean, when something doesn’t make sense —”

“Like I said. Just like math.”

“I don’t mean that kind of ‘not making sense.’ I mean when it feels like someone is being dishonest.”

“Oh. I get it. In the Transylvania Forest, we witches could easily see when someone was dishonest. A stinky, murky cloud appeared around them. No one else could see it; just the witches.”

“That sounds pretty amazing! I wish humans could see that. It would save us a lot of trouble! I guess because your spells are — well, not exactly going too well these days, this is another way you’re learning to adapt to your new way of being in the world. When you get that funny feeling in your stomach, it’s like a message.”

“It doesn’t feel very funny to me.”

“I know, it’s called ‘intuition’ and everyone has it. But sometimes it doesn’t feel very good. That’s usually when something is wrong. You can get a similar feeling with good things, too, but it won’t be unpleasant.”

“Why not?”

“Well, it’s because something not nice is happening. In this case, it’s realising that someone lied to you. It’s disappointing. It’s disrespectful. It makes you feel like you can’t trust your friend anymore.”

“Yes! All of that is exactly how I’m feeling! Thank you!”

Witchy leapt up from her chair and leaned over to give me a hug.

“I’m glad I could help, Witchy.”

“Oh, you really did!” she beamed. Suddenly, her face fell. “Only…” She dropped back into her chair.

“Only what?”

“I guess it means he’s not really my friend.”

Nodding slowly, I replied, “I think you’re probably right. You’re the only one who can decide that.”

“I don’t want to be friends with someone who tells me lies and makes up dumb stories. Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know, Witchy. Sometimes people don’t like themselves and they think no one else will like them either. So they try to impress people with a made-up version of themselves.”

“I liked Martin before he said anything about his stupid £10,000,000 or big house. He seemed nice.”

“Maybe he is. And there are other people who aren’t very nice and they lie for other reasons.”

“What kinds of reasons?”

“Oh, lots of them. And usually, it means they want something from you or they’re doing things they know they shouldn’t do and they don’t want you to find out. Maybe breaking the law or hurting people in some way.”

“Wouldn’t I know that if I met them?”

“Not necessarily, Witchy. They can seem ever so nice. They’re very good at manipulating others and making people think they’re wonderful. But that’s why we have that weird feeling in our stomachs. It’s like a built-in warning system that lets us know we need to listen to it. The problem is, too often people ignore it.”

“Why would they do that?“

“Sometimes they want to believe the best in others. Or they wonder if they’ve misunderstood something. Or maybe because they’re in love. Again, there are lots of reasons for it. I’ve made that mistake way too many times in my own life so I’m familiar with the regret that comes with it.”

“You? You’ve made mistakes like that?”

“Of course! I’ve made plenty of mistakes. Well, I don’t want to call them ‘mistakes,’ really. They were choices that didn’t turn out as I’d hoped. That’s how I’m able to share these kinds of things with you, Witchy. My life has been pretty messy at times.”

“It doesn’t look messy now.”

“I’ve learned a lot….and one of the most important lessons was to listen to that odd feeling in your stomach. It will never lie to you, Witchy. Never. I can promise you that when you ignore it, you’ll end up wishing you hadn’t.”

“Thank you, Liberty. That helps a lot!”

“Good!”

“Hmm. I think I’m hungry after all. Guess I’ll see if Enchantra kept dinner warm for me.”

And after our goodbyes and a proper hug, my little blue friend twirled her way down my path and disappeared into the night.

Why It’s Essential To Listen to Your Inner Warning System